


Habits

by sky_kaijou



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Cigarettes, Fluff, M/M, Midnight meetings, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_kaijou/pseuds/sky_kaijou
Summary: [KaiJou]: Meeting near midnight; how a relationship forms over summer through nicotine and head-spins. Rated T for cigarette use.





	

The night is overcast; the moon barely peeking through to wave the night in, a light summers breeze brushing the pronounced cheekbones framing his melancholy mood.

He reaches into his pockets, pursuing the brief head spin and relief of the habit he otherwise hides, gripping the thin object between his index and middle finger, bringing it to his lips and clicking his lighter as he sucks in enough to make it catch.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” a form with a familiar voice, albeit a little deeper than it used to be, slithers beside him.

“Didn’t know you cared.” He waves his hand as if to usher the young man away.

The tall blond shrugs, not biting like he used to. “Mind if I sit here?”

“You’re going to whether I give you permission or not.”

He shrugs again, reaching into his own pocket to mimic the action, the tip glowing cherry as the flame tickles the paper.

They sit in silence, as they inhale, exhale, inhale. He feels his head lightly dancing, and smiles inwardly; not sure whether it’s just from the high or the nostalgia.

~*~

“Are we going to make a habit of this?” his voice snaps him out of the daze as he’s sitting there with the glowing stick pointing towards the ground. He finally exhales, the smoke dancing on the long tongue as it escapes into the damp summer air.

“It’s too hot to be sleeping,” the other man comments, finding his grounding, but only briefly.

“I don’t know if that’s something you’d be doing regardless,” the lips of the blond flash a knowing smile as he places himself gingerly by the tightly-wound brunet.

The brunet shrugs. “Possibly not. But if I’m home I’ll feel obligated to answer emails.”

“You don’t have an off switch, do you?” the blond says rhetorically. “I guess some things never change.”

~*~

“It’s almost midnight, Cinderella. You’d better head home before your evil stepsisters wonder where you are,” the blond approaches with a grin on his face.

“Shut up, you.” The grumble unthreatening as the plumbs of grey smoke follow his words out of his mouth.

“Why, you gonna turn me into a Pumpkin or something?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how Cinderella goes, you dimwit.” So, the insults haven’t changed, but the bite isn’t there anymore.

“Then maybe I’ll make my own fairy tale, with my own cute prince and less vegetables.” The three-months-younger man grinned, not caring that he’d outed himself.

~*~

The brunet hands the blond a cigarette this time. “Yours smell disgusting.”

The blond shrugs. “I think they all smell disgusting but we’ll make do to get our fix.” But he takes the cigarette, and accepts the light from the zippo, hand lightly cupping the end due to the breeze to let it catch. He draws in, the grey smoke nowhere near as sharp, and lets it linger on his lungs and tongue before breathing it out his nose like a dragon.

“Maybe you’re right,” he concedes. “This is much nicer.”

“If you’re going to kill yourself, you might as well do it pleasantly,” the brunet laughs at the irony, flicking the ash off the end of his, passing an unopened pack over. “For you.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

~*~

Tonight was cool, and that brought reprieve to the otherwise sleepless nights, the worn mental state of the brunet was thankful.

“Where were you last night?” He asks without making eye contact with the man, but rather feeling his warmth as he settled in for their usual whatever-this-is.

“I didn’t know you were keeping tabs,” the blond grumbled, pulling out the same brand as the one between the delicate fingers of the brunet. “But, I had a night off work.”

“What do you do these days?”

The blond paused. “Well, I work in a restaurant at night, and pay my way through University in the day.”

“Studying?”

“Oh, just, Business stuff. Marketing, Economics.”

“Seems like an odd mix.”

The blond chuckles. “Coming from you, you’re the strangest one I’ve met to date.”

“Why business?”

Again, the blond chuckles. “Because. I’ve actually turned out to be kinda okay at it.” Sucking the marred air into his lungs, and holding it before quietly adding “I think you rubbed off on me a little way back when.”

“Well, somebody had to be a positive influence in your otherwise bleak life.”

“Ouch, that hurts, Mr CEO.” The blond shoving him playfully. “Not all of us can be born successful.”

“ _Adopted_ successful,” mutters the brunet in a sick attempt to make a joke.

~*~

With only the sounds in the distant city, he sinks into the bench, crossing his long legs and smoothing out his coat. Moonlight soaking his pale skin, masking the circles under his eyes from working too much and sleeping too little.

He hears footsteps in the distance becoming more prominent, a flutter of relief when he notices the form in the distance is the familiar one.

Here he was, fumbling at the almost empty packet, needing that fix, needing to feel in control of something in his life. His fingers were shaking, as he pushed the end to his lips.

“Starting without me?” a voice rumbles softly as a form joins him on the same bench, rustling in his own pockets and mimicking the actions.

They both take a drag, deep into their lungs, and exhale in sync.

They turn their heads to catch each other’s gaze; a mix of ice-blue and golden. The brunet instinctively leans in a little to rest his forehead against the blond locks.

“You need to look after yourself,” the blond whispers, taking another long drag, expelling it away from the form on his shoulder.

“I know, but…” he trails off, taking another deep hit of the smoke which he’s grown so accustomed to. Maybe in a sick way it punishes him further for punishing himself, but the head spin is starting, and he doesn’t do this often enough to otherwise be worried for his health. Just once a night.

“You’re twenty-six, lines are already starting to show.” The blond murmurs, using his free hand to straighten the meticulous fringe of the brunet as he takes another puff with the other hand.

“You can’t lecture me about my habit,” he growled in defence.

“I just don’t want you to die without ever having lived.” The words circled inside the brunet’s head as his other thoughts dissipated.

~*~

The night is filled with a strange silence, apart from the heartbeat in his own ears and the soft exhale of the blond. Which is eventually interrupted with a burning question.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Slightly taken aback, but the brunet mumbles a truthful “No.” Quickly filling his lungs again and inwardly holding until his brain fights for oxygen, his head whirrs and the feeling in his fingertips intensifies. A wry smile creeping upon the plump lips. “I’ll ask you the same question.”

“Hmm.” The blond shifts, leaning in to rest his cheek on the padded shoulder of the coat. “I’ve dated, but I haven’t been in love.” He sits in silence as he connects the smouldering stick to his lips.

“You’re going to make someone very happy,” the brunet replies, resting his head upon the resting blond locks.

“I hope I already am,” he whispers, as the cigarette smoulders until it puts itself out.

~*~

The brunet is late tonight, but the blond has a feeling he’ll still come so he waits, nervously flicking his florescent orange lighter.

“You came?” the smooth voice asks, as he makes his place beside the already reclined man.

“Of course,” and with that, the brunet pops a cigarette between the chapped lips of the blond, and then his own. A click of the lighter from the blond ignites the tip for him. “Thanks.”

The brunet shrugs from indifference, head already spinning before the first breath, crossing his legs elegantly, staring up at the moon which is nearing completion.

Tonight they don’t need to speak; there’s nothing left to be said.

~*~

“Hey,” the brunet greets, hands empty for a change.

“Hey,” the blond blushes a little as he drowns in the cerulean eyes. “You out?”

“No,” he replied. “I just…”

“Don’t need one?”

The brunet blinks, and the blond cocks his head to the side, with a shy smile.

“Neither.”

They sit there in silence, hoping the other might make the first move to start the conversation.

“Then why are you here?” the brunet eventually asks, voice low.

“Habit.” The answer inconspicuous, for the brunet to interpret it as he needs. “You?”

“Habit.” The taller man crinkles his nose, before producing a small smile.

~*~

The blond is standing by the bench, waiting for his watch to hit that ever-familiar 11:45pm; the moonlight is strong and piercing. Hearing the rustle of the coat as the leggy brunet strides towards him, he goes to speak when he realises his lips are being silenced by the other man.

He loses himself against the plush lips and minty aftertaste.

“Just wanted to see what it was like.” The brunet said simply after a moment. “Do you mind if we try that again?”

The blond nodded shyly, and pushed back on the kiss, replacing one oral fixation with another.


End file.
